Love isn’t a final solution. I
like that. It’s not a final resolution. It’s a belief; billions of people
believe in it, so strongly it becomes real to us. But it’ll never fix a problem
absolutely. Truthfully, it only causes more than they and the lawyers are
worth. You try solving a problem with love you end up a manic depressive
stashed away by their family in a sanitarium dressed in the nun outfit and
scuba gear you were found wearing because she was Catholic and a medal-winning
swimmer.
Love is faith to some people. The
faith they don’t put into religion they place on love. Both concepts circle
around the same ideology and potential for ill-advised fixations. You place
complete trust in someone, something; even yourself, but you still must create
your own argumentative tangibility.
Jesus was crucified for
practicing a different faith. Some women get staplegunned through the skull for
fucking the wrong guy; she doesn’t have to be cheating either. A mentally
irrational lonely scum forged a tangible belief to his conscientious self that
he and this new corpse were in love; yet, he caught her cheating and instead of
breaking up with her, she became carpentry.
Belief – faith – seemingly makes
life easier. It doesn’t fix anything, but it definitely can smoothen the most
desolate roads. We will still hit walls, and we’ll continue getting up.
Life becomes less lonely. You
punch people out of harmonious appreciation instead of selfish anger. You believe things are going to
be alright. You’ll hit many more wall, you believe in something; you get up.
Usually, anyway.
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